


The Care and Tending of Hyper-Sensitive Blonds

by 3988Akasha



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Dr. Dre (Musician)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After collaborating on a well-received song, Adam and Dr. Dre talk about their respectrive blonds at the after party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Care and Tending of Hyper-Sensitive Blonds

**Author's Note:**

> It's all her fault (and I adore her for it) bones_2_be and I were talking after seeing Dr. Dre and Eminem's "I Need a Doctor" video, and well, this was the result. Also, this is the song I imagined Adam doing with Eminem. "Beautiful"

After parties were all the same: throw a bunch of people together, with nothing in common once the music stops, and watch. It was like some freakish social experiment, but instead of scientists in lab coats, there were waiters in three-piece suits. As herd animals, people tended to remain with their own kind. Sure, music brought different groups of people together, but only for so long.

“Expensive looking circus,” a deep voice mused.

Adam looked up at the sound. “Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence. Without the track to discuss, conversation died.

“I thought Monte was insane when he suggested this.”

Dr. Dre smiled and gave a small nod. “Don’t think Em thought you’d do it.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“So why’d you say yes?”

Adam met Dre’s eyes. “The music comes first. The song was amazing.”

Dre nodded.

Adam looked down at his martini ruefully.

“I just – ”

Dre looked down at him curiously.

“I just hope people didn’t just like it because it was something new, you know? I want them to really like the song.”

Dre didn’t answer right away. Adam glanced up, but didn’t meet his eyes. He wasn’t talking with Monte; this was still new conversational territory.

“Can’t think too hard on it, man. Anytime somethin’ new comes ‘round, always gonna be the hitchers looking for the next big thing. Coulda gone real bad, you know? I figure it had to go one way or the other. Ain’t gonna be no middle when you break out like we did.”

Adam nodded. He knew about breaking out of the mold. He’d felt it right after Idol. A lot of people didn’t know what to do with him – how to categorize him. With this second album, he hoped they still had the same problem. Throwing in a song with Eminem should do the trick.

“Hey man,” Eminem said as he approached the pair.

Eminem offered Adam a polite head nod before he gave Dre their customary greeting. Adam fought the urge to look away, as if he was witnessing something sacred between the two. He’d seem the greeting a lot during recording, but here it just felt like he was intruding. Musical collaboration only took him so far into other worlds.

“Looks like it worked,” Eminem told Dre.

Dre’s eyes glinted a bit mischievously as he looked down at Eminem.

“Don’t fucking go there, Dre. Not again. Fucking already said you was right, okay?”

Dre snatched the beer from Eminem’s hand and took a big swig before handing it back. Amused, Adam watched as Eminem glared at his beer, then at Dre then back at his beer before stalking off.

“Kids, man.”

Adam looked up, noticing Dre’s eyes were still on Eminem.

“Fucker’s wearin’ my goddamed shirt.”

Adam took note of Eminem’s outfit for the first time. Honestly, they always looked the same. The pair of them. To Adam’s mind, Eminem’s shirts ALWAYS looked that baggy. Adam didn’t see any notable difference between what Eminem was wearing tonight and what he wore every other time he’d seen him.

A small body gently collided with his own, pulling his attention from Eminem’s fashion. He switched his martini to the opposite hand. Automatically, he reached down and ruffled the mass of blond hair.

“Sutan keeps tweeting about how he’s going to convince me to let Raja fucking dress me up – again.”

Adam smirked at Tommy’s sulky tone, and tried to hide it behind his martini.

“Not fucking funny,” Tommy mumbled from somewhere in Adam’s side.

“Of course not,” Adam began as he carded his fingers through Tommy’s hair, “but you know how pretty she’ll make you look?”

Tommy pushed away from Adam’s side, glared up at him and shuffled over to Monte. Adam sighed as his hand dropped back to his side.

“Seems we’ve both been dismissed.”

Adam blinked up at Dre. He’d completely forgotten he’d been talking with the other man. Tommy had that effect on him. When Tommy was around, nothing else seemed to exist, to matter. Fuck.

“Always come back though, don’t they?” Dre asked.

“He’ll tweet about it, sulk and move on,” Adam paused, glanced at Tommy, “I hope.”

“Nah, man. He’ll be back. Already glanced.”

Adam smiled. He looked over to where Eminem was still sulking. Every few seconds he’d look over at Dre. Adam continued to watch, Eminem seemingly unaware of Adam’s scrutiny. After looking, he’d glance down at his feet, take a step forward, shake his head and go back to his original position.

“Em does it all the fucking time. Shuffle, bitch and moan.”

Adam laughed. “Shuffle, bitch and moan?”

“Sure. He goes off to the corner, shuffles like a dumbass, comes over, bitches like the fuck he is and later, well – ”

Adam watched the way Dre’s expression changed as he let the “well” hang in the air between them. It took him a moment, but then his mouth formed a silent “oh”. Moan as in bent over and fucked into the nearest solid surface moan.

Tommy had a similar pattern. Minus the shuffle.

“Tommy’ll just sulk until Monte gets sick of him and sends him back to me.”

Dre nodded, his attention divided. Adam understood. He watched Tommy at least as much as Tommy watched him.

“Sometimes I feel like a stalker when we’re all out at stuff like this,” Adam said. “I just know how uncomfortable he is with the press and I wanna make sure I can protect him from as much of the shit as possible. I’m not always on the good side of the press. I just don’t want it to fall back on him.”

Dre looked between Adam and Tommy. If he had to hazard a guess, Adam thought Dre was assessing the pair of them.

“Don’t look like he’s too concerned,” Dre observed.

“Nah. He’s with Monte. No one’s going to do anything stupid with Monte there.”

“How’d he end up with you anyway? Don’t seem like a – glitter – kinda guy.”

Adam smiled. “Tommy did rock before joining the band. Originally auditioned for lead guitar, but Monte’d already signed on, so we asked Tommy if he’d learn bass. We really wanted him.”

Dre leveled Adam with a look.

“Alright,” Adam admitted with a small laugh, “I really wanted him. Plus, he’s really good when he plays.”

“Em spins a wicked rhyme. Always has. Knew he needed someone though, you know? Man, just bein’ white’s enough to force shit to the roof. Then, fucker decides he’s gonna rap? Damn. Knew then he’d be unstoppable. First time I met him, I knew I’d have his back.”

Adam nodded; he understood.

“Keeps lookin’ back at you.”

Adam smirked. “He does that during concerts. He’ll come over to me, like he’s checking in. Then he’ll wander back. He never stops moving during a show. Any show.”

“Em’s like that too, man. Kid never stops movin’. Like he’s this tiny ball of energy. Can’t sit still for one fucking minute.”

Adam chuckled. “That’s Tommy. Sometimes getting him to stop long enough to focus is nearly impossible.”

“Then, he gets fucking moody. Bitchy little fuck when he’s all in his own goddamned head. Can’t do nothin’ with him when he’s like that. Gotta get his attention, if you know what I mean.”

The lascivious look on Dre’s face left Adam with no confusion about his meaning. He knew that look. For as passive as Tommy was, he did tend to get moody. First time it happened, Adam hadn’t known how to react. He was so private, and quiet, and when he secluded himself from the group, Adam had panicked. Finally, after driving himself insane for about a day, he’d cornered Tommy and demanded to know what was wrong. Tommy’d given him this look like Adam’d lost his mind.

“I completely freaked out the first time Tommy went into one of those moods of his. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, or how to fix it. It drove me crazy. I just wanted him to be happy again.”

Unable to resist, Adam looked over at Tommy. His timing was just right because Tommy was peeking around Monte’s shoulder at the same moment. Tommy smiled brightly. Clearly making eye contact was the code for “come back over here” because a moment later, Tommy’d once more adhered himself to Adam’s side.

Adam looked at Dre who had a knowing smile on his face. Before he could make any sort of comment, Eminem made his way over to the group. While he maintained some physical distance between himself and Dre, Adam caught the look the pair exchanged. Eminem looked between Dre and the door. He gave a little nod towards the door and Dre smiled.

“Seems I’ve got some needs to be seein’ to,” Dre told Adam.

Adam smiled, noting the confusion on Eminem’s face. “Enjoy yourself.”

Dre gave Adam a head nod before ushering Eminem toward the door.

Tommy rubbed his cheek against Adam’s side.

“Ready?” Adam asked softly.

Tommy nodded.

As Adam led Tommy to the door, he realized that people occasionally had more in common than music. Although he figured most people wouldn’t have blonds to discuss when the topic of music was exhausted. But, then, he’d never figured Dr. Dre would have a blond to tend to…

~FIN~


End file.
